


Devil's Night

by ninamazing



Category: Eastwick (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Female Friendship, Multi, Porn, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 22:18:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninamazing/pseuds/ninamazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year ago, this would have been any other Devil's Night in Eastwick. But Kat is a different person now, and Roxie and Darryl welcome her into their wanton world of lust and magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil's Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airspaniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/gifts).



> The most magical holiday wishes to my awesome Yuletide giftee. I truly hope you enjoy this. Eastwick porn forever! :D

A year ago this would have been any other Devil's Night in Eastwick, the air charged with destructive teenage energy and the insistent odor of burning leaves. Kat would be in the kitchen as usual, making cocoa for the little ones and standing guard between Luca and raw eggs. She barely knew what to do with her hands, now, in the absence of doorbells and screaming and last-minute costume demands. She'd never have imagined that she could feel so at home here, in Roxie Torcoletti's decadent cave of exotic and erotic artifacts, where solid sense and logic stayed back outside the doorway with the shoes and coats.

But everything had changed. She was a different person — she'd asserted that much to Raymond. She might as well follow the path she'd fought so hard to open.

"And now you finally know," Roxie was saying, drawing confident swipes in the air with her olive-speared toothpick. "You don't have to be who you were."

"That's beautiful." Kat downed the last of her martini, and grinned. Ever the elegant hostess, Roxie unscrewed the bottle and poured each of them another dangerous amount of vodka. Kat watched as the blood-red stripe of Roxie's bra strap slid off one shoulder, as tendrils of curly blonde hair gathered in front of those full lips as if they too wanted a taste. If Roxie was drunk, Kat could safely consider herself wasted with a capital W.

"Your place is really the perfect hideout for a night like this," Kat mused. She trailed the pad of her finger across the wet rim of her glass; she swirled alcohol over her tongue and giggled. "Too bad Joanna's still out on her secret fact-finding mission."

"Too bad," Roxie agreed. Kat almost didn't catch the glint that flitted, fairy-like, over her friend's eyes. Before she had time to wonder what it meant, in strutted a panther-black Zegna suit and the long, lean body it covered — one Darryl Van Horn, a man who never saw fit to knock.

"I'm on time, aren't I?" His eyes travelled over the two women, Kat particularly, with a deliberate leisure that shot a current through her spine. The coyote howls of the winds outside grew even louder. It was a proper Devil's Night after all.

"What? You were —" Kat turned to Roxie, but the other woman was already smiling, rising, stepping forward to take the giant cocktail shaker Darryl held.

"Barely on time," Roxie confirmed.

"I have brought drink refreshers," Darryl announced. "No doubt you ladies were already down to the dregs of even Roxie's impressive liquor cabinet."

Roxie poured, saying nothing. Kat glanced from one poker face to the other.

"And that would be unacceptable, of course," Darryl continued, "because this is a special night, and there are certain plans afoot. Plans especially for you, Kat," he said in answer to her raised eyebrows, "our budding goddess of power."

Kat snorted into her mystery drink. "Well, I don't think _that's_ , uh ...."

He bent down, so close to her neck she could sense his breath in her pores; so close that only one thought burned in her mind. She had only ever been with one man in all the world, one man who smelled of cheap beer and spent candles, one man whose tiny world no longer encompassed any part of hers.

"I'm so glad you're wearing the gift I got you," Darryl murmured. "It is, if you will, the proverbial cherry on top of tonight's proceedings."

Kat shivered.

"Oh, UNF," Roxie exclaimed, sipping and then gulping from her glass. "What is this?"

Darryl grinned against the curve of Kat's shoulder, and straightened once more.

"Vodka, St-Germain — which as you may know is a liqueur the French make from elderflowers — creme de violette, and a dash of lemon juice. I'll take that as an 'unf' of approval?"

A year ago, this would have been any other Devil's Night in Eastwick.

 

Somewhere in between Kat visiting the bathroom and Roxie taking Darryl's coat, the St-Germain had taken hold. Or perhaps it was merely the devils.

Kat was holding Roxie's head, stroking her hair, as Darryl knelt with his face buried underneath the older woman's generous skirts.

"Faster," Roxie panted, "faster —"

A blush of rose spread across Roxie's skin, and in Kat's embrace her body warmed like a smooth stone in a hot spring. Kat kissed her cheek, her neck, those lips; it was impossible not to, and yet she couldn't help but wonder if all of this would make a difference tomorrow, if she would be able to look Roxie in the eye over coffee and a bagel now that she knew how Roxie's gasps felt against her silk-draped breasts, how the sandalwood-vodka scent of the sweat on Roxie's skin tasted on the sweet and sour spots of Kat's tongue.

"Oh God," Roxie breathed, her mouth a hair's breadth away.

Kat watched the thick, dark head of hair bob up and down as Darryl displayed, for the first time, his mastery of taking direction. Maybe he was a prince, she thought dreamily, the heir to some obscure European throne.

"Now Kat," Roxie cried out. "Now Kat. _Please._ "

This time when the current travelled up her spine it didn't go away; it flashed through her body, radiated from that place between her thighs and Kat knew what this meant. It had been far, far too long.

Darryl pulled away, grinning his triumph, and took Kat's hand.

"First, a taste," he growled, and when his mouth smashed into Kat's she tasted the cloying cinnamon honey of her friend, the devilish bite of Darryl's drink, and most of all the sharp silvery tang that reminded her of a coin she'd thrown into a fountain not so very long ago. She grabbed the back of Darryl's head and licked it all away.

Roxie gazed at her, eyes half-lidded, as Kat crawled up to her waist and turned so that their positions were reversed. Roxie held her now; Roxie kissed her neck now; Roxie finger-combed her hair now as Darryl's sure fingers pushed up the silk of her nightdress in ripples. He kissed her abdomen, rested his face there, and for some moments the three of them breathed together, in and out and in again.

When Roxie's hands reached Kat's breasts and cupped them, he was between her legs. He was suddenly everywhere. The man could find a clit, Kat thought wryly, no matter what else people said about him.

And then all she felt was the barely-there wash of his breath, and she realized he was talking. To her.

"Remember this always," he whispered, his hands skating around her knees and thighs and ass. "Remember the chasm and the way it shakes your body. Remember the power. Remember the wind and the rain and the music of all the molecules of all the earth and the sky, because it is the same melody that's pulsing in your veins right now. _Right now_ , Kat," he snapped, and nipped at her clit so that she whimpered. "Remember how it feels to be connected, to be the center of all the myriad spokes of nature. You understand. You nurture. And it is just like this. Remember."

He dove at her, and in the hot texture of his tongue and the soft support of Roxie's breasts and the gamine flavor of magic cocktails and in the swirling torrent of the clouds and stars in the dark of the night outside, Kat lost herself; and found herself, again, but differently.


End file.
